The Health Care Debate - Facebook Style

I just wanted to post my response to one of my friends recent posts on facebook. He's a great guy and a hard worker, but I feel like he's the prime target of a lot of misinformation spiraling around regarding healthcare. Now, I don't believe I'm an expert on the subject or anything, but I've heard enough from both sides of the argument to take a position. And, as someone currently without healthcare, I am most definitely an interested party.

Here's his post followed by my response(s).

Mike Robinson Thanks Obama and other various crazy-assed left politicians. The health care "reform" will end up taxing the hell out of us who actually worked hard for a decent job/career that provides health care. Hope you can buy back your senate seat from Blagoi..????..vich.

Charlie Christenson

You're drunk.

Mike Robinson

Not yet...but soon. I'm just worried, because all the big corps that employee all of us college grads, are announcing that they have to cut back on a lot because of new "tax issues" concerning the new legislation on health care.

Charlie Christenson

Oh, Michael. Most likely they're lying to you... Those big companies want to lay you off to try to save a buck and their corporate asses, and poor people who can't afford health care are the ones they blame for it. Don't be mad at the poor people, or the ones trying to help. Be mad at the greed. Be mad at the insurance companies who have denied coverage to sick and dying children for years. Be mad at the financial policy makers of the last 16 years. And know that these "new taxes" will only apply to the disgustingly wealthy (who have ridiculous health care plans), and won't kick in for another two years. Everything else is a lie. The people creating these lies want to maintain the status quo of big big business and are leading us down a path were the middle class (you and I and our parents) no longer exist. There'll be just rich and poor. And I'd rather not be poor... (or poorer) right?

More money to the G-men, screws all of us.

This is in no way to try to humiliate Mike - instead, I thought we could continue the discussion on the blog?

Super.

Fabian Almazan and the LA LA Land

Last week I got a chance to check out the Terence Blanchard Quintet and hang out with one of my favorite people in the world, pianist Fabian Almazan.

While my revue of their venue (Catalina Jazz Club) wasn't on the rosy side, my review of their set(s) definitely was. They played with imagination and energy and were a bit of a breath of fresh air for someone who hasn't heard a high level of live music lately.

The next day we hung out at a great little taco place (which just so happens is owned by the cousin of jazz singer Diane Reeves) and hit up what is probably the final living saint of record stores, Amoeba Music... it's the highlander, there can be only one.

(the great thing about dropping names in a blog is that you can hyperlink all of them - or is that the worst?)

In a related story, Nick, Fabian and I saw one of the ZZ Tops and heard a guy utter what is, so far, probably the worst iPad joke - "Forget iPad, check out my iC@ck!"

Classy, as always.

Saving the World (One composition at a time)

Check out this entry from the Do The Math blog and guest blogger, John Hollenbeck.

Great considerations for all composers/creators out there.

Stick and Stones

Download the new album Stick and Stones for FREE!!!

Crazy Love

Check out my new review of Michael Buble's Crazy Love on about.com.

Yacht Rock

If you have yet to take your first voyage upon the Yacht of Rock, take a look.

Episode 3 Halloween Edition

Episode 2

Enjoy it while it lasts

If you're a piano player, or a jazz musician, or a gorilla, you owe it to yourself to read this interview between The Bad Plus' Ethan Iverson and Keith Jarrett.

Many topics are discussed in depth, including growing up and finding work as a young jazz musician. It finds Jarrett at his most real and least crazy.

Enjoy it while it lasts.

Fake or Fake? Who you callin fake?

So, what do you think? Fake or Real, or Fake.

Man, I hope it's real.

I'm scared to death of sharks, and I want that fear to be warranted. Without big, gravity defying sharks out there, I don't think I can honestly call myself a man. Much less a bad ass.

It is amazing, upon further reflection, how they've seemed to perfectly frame this shot - in the face of extreme non-reality.

To close, I'd like to pose the question this way - why do we care if it's real? I for one will not be flying my military chopper that close to the ocean any how. As much for fear of the flying great whites as the acid spitting dolphins.

So, lets just all play it safe and keep to the land where all we have to deal with are the half-bear/half-bat people that roam the nights and the occasional Canadian...

Happily ever after I say. Happily ever after.

Entry - Linda Oh

Check out Linda Oh's new album. It's killing!

http://jazz.about.com/b/2009/10/08/double-bass-2.htm

Video Blog - Episode 1

The music in this video is from my latest album, "The Joy of Driving." You can download it and all of my other albums for free here.

Have a super day.

B's from Harvard

A Step to the Left - Notes from Day 2

We got up unnecessarily early and headed off, cutting through a large portion of the Midwest on our way to the golden coast.

This is a very good representation of the vistas we encountered on this leg of the trip. Some would say "lame" or "flat," but I thought it was relaxing. Coming from a town where there is no horizon, it was nice to see the old curve of the earth again.

We headed south west through the bottom corner of Wisconsin and headed over the ragging Mississippi in to Iowa. By the way, if you need gas, Iowa is the place to go. I'm not sure if I should have put ethanol into the Penske truck, but it seemed just fine (and it was hell-a cheep, that's right, hell-a).

My sister couldn't understand why I took a picture of the this silo... but I'm sure if you look closely you'll see what caught my eye.

Iowa was about as long as Pennsylvania, but much more pleasant. I guess it's hard to get mad at people when there are none around. Maybe I should have just stayed there?

The best part of Nebraska, the next state on our hit list, was the fields and fields (and fields) of sunflower fields (not shown here). They also have a lot of wind power towers. Pretty sweet. And this point, we're getting slightly blown out from driving... but we have oh so much more to go.

(Sunflower Fields shown here - very dark)

As the sun goes down we know we're getting close to the mountains, but there are none in sight. I guess that will be tomorrows prize.

We pull over the border of Colorado and into a Best Western and, after I back over a "no parking sign" with the truck, we pack it in for the night. Tomorrow, Colorado, Utah, Arizona, Nevada, and our new home, China 2 - I mean California.

Ending stats: 989 Miles

3 Penut Butter Sandwiches

Half a bag of oatmeal cookies

A half dozen handfuls of carmel corn

2 Kids from Wisconsin and 1 Moped from Japan

A Strike of Confidence

Is my confidence waining? Am I having second thoughts?

These are interesting (and exponentially depressing) topics to contemplate.

Just dealing with the idea of thinking about second thoughts confuses me - what does it all mean? Does it matter? Oh, dammit.

The current state of things out here on my new coast is most certainly on the up and up (depending on how you look at it). I have a few teaching gigs, I've meet a couple of new people, and I'm working on an interesting musical concept.

But it's fair to say my general expectations of this move, as well as my life, have been slightly unrealistic up until this point - but still, that thought seems horribly unambitious. I certainly could have been working harder to get gigs, put a band together, complete writing projects, and find teaching jobs, but if I did all those things would I know how to get to the beach? The grocery store? The Chipotle?

What's the point of moving to an interesting spot if your only goal is to continue on your current path?

(An inspiring picture to inspire you)

I see now that new goals are in order. New timetables must be installed. Creative execution should follow, and on and on, until, someday, somehow, something is achieved.

Now this sounds like a plan a man like me can get behind. And when I say plan, of course, I mean a plan to plan. Right. Great. Fine. ...engage.

Awesome.

The Secret Revealed

A Step to the Left - Pit Stop

On the second day, I rested. Or whatever.

On the unofficial second day of my journey (I say unofficial because there was no physical traveling), I took time to sleep a few hours and reorganize my life on wheels.

Aside from being a welcome rest for driver, it also ended up being something of a wonderland for my two turtles in a half-shell (turtle power). I can't say for sure, but I think it was their first experience with grass. It must be similar to southerners first time experiencing snow - with a little more burrowing.

What a trip it's been for them - from parts unknown, to China Town, to the Upper West Side, to a Wisconsin front yard, to... California (and all parts in between). I can't say they can tell the difference, and maybe for them there is none, but they liked the grass anyhow.

It was nice to see the house, and even nicer to see the folks. I said I didn't want a gathering or a dinner or any of those things my extended family seems to live for, but when the inevitable happened, it was nice.

After the party left and a short rain storm blew through (the last one I've seen for two and a half weeks), we reshuffled the load. I couldn't have imagined adding more, but we found a way. With two bikes, a bed, dresser, table, some lamps, a vacuum and a restored antique moped, no one was going to accuse me of traveling light. Oh, did I also mention I picked up a travel buddy? I did - my sister (and future roommate).

After plenty of unwelcome but helpful words of advice, we hit the hay (so to speak), and got ready for our 5 AM call to arms.

A Step to the Left - Notes from Day 1

After packing up (and tearing up) and running head first out of New York with all of my junk, I have amassed the following notes of the first day or so of my journey.

(Note: all times Eastern Standard and estimated)

9:14 AM - Arrive at truck rental trailer-park, located in the part of Manhattan typically reserved for gang fights between the mob and Batman.

9:43 AM - Without much fanfare, I'm on the road with a 16 foot truck, which to my surprise has a much coveted CD player.

10:15 AM - Pick up some donuts and find eight of my closest friends sitting on my front stoop reinacting a scene from a Molly Ringwald movie I once saw half of.

10:34 AM - After four minutes of negotiation, I convince a very stupid women that her car will fit through the space between my truck and the van across the street.

11:44 AM - I'm packed and ready to squirt some.

11:50 AM - Pulling away from my home for the last 3 years without any idea of where I'm going, except that it's west of here and there will probably end up being more trees and less pigeons. (After a few minutes I find my directions and feel more prepared)

11:52 AM - I'm lost.

11:53 AM - Thank you sweet Jesus for the iPhone.

12:02 PM - I catch a final glimps of the NY sky line and wonder when, or if, I'll be back.

12:45 PM - New Jersey does kind of suck, but it's fun to drive.

1:30 PM - Pennsylvania sucks.

2:00 PM - Pennsylvania sucks.

3:00 PM - Pennsylvania sucks.

cont...

3:32 PM - Apparently, other drivers hate people in moving trucks.

3:32 PM - A man passed me, stuck his hand out of his window, and made a very lame pointing jesture to the right. Initially, I believed he was pointing out something cool on that side of the highway, but later realized he wanted me to change lanes. What I told him by not changing lanes was that no one cares what he thinks.

4:10 PM - After stopping for gas at a quant roadside-mall/gas station I decided to take some pictures of some very tasteful, but deadly, 3-d leopard art work (pictured below) that seemed to be featured on every wall. The leopard got the last laugh however, as that very photo killed my phone battery.

4:12 PM - After the leopard incident, the nice, seemingly hillbilly, gas station attendant informed me that while they sold an iPhone car-charger, I would have to wait 20 minutes for his manager to return and open the case it had been stored in. A case that featured such high price merchandise as $9 jelly head phones and the aforementioned $15 phone charger.

5:14 PM - Drank some iced coffee and some peanuts.

cont...

7:25 PM - I was a bit surprised with how emotional I was leaving this morning. It's funny how some things don't outwardly effect you while others do. There had been a lot of build up to today, and I had been hesitant to let it get to me in any sentimental or emotional way.

7:56 PM - After about 8 hours of straight driving, I'm starting to get the hang of working the truck. I no longer feel like an old man driving an unruly lawnmower.

9:00 PM - I'm in Ohio.

9:10 PM - After passing a strangely familiar farm, I'm starting to have flashbacks of coming to New York 3 years ago. I felt so much more stressed coming than I do going. I think NY is inherently stressful to some degree, but I also think I've grown.

11:11 PM - Crossing into Indiana - "Crossroads of America"

11:40 PM - Consumed by me on this leg of the journey so far: 3 Iced Coffees, 2 Bags of Peanuts, some string cheese, a gallon of Apple Juice and a gallon of Orange Juice (w/pulp).

11:49 PM - Weird late night trucker headlight signals. I don't know what 3 short and one long means, but I bet it's dirty.

12:18 AM - Smashmouth's version of "I'm a Believer" on the radio. Hello middle school.

12:19 AM - 90's week on Indiana radio. Love is in the air - along with heavy rain.

2:18 AM - Smooth Jazz while passing through Chicago. Really brings me back.

2:53 AM - Sting's "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic" while passing Six Flags Great America.

3:00 AM - A roundup of the tolls I've paid today: New Jersey - $5, Pennsylvania - $7, Ohio - $13, Indiana - $4, Chicago - $1:50 + $3 + $1.50 = $6 (they're so tricky).

3:33 AM - On an empty highway in Wisconsin. I think everyone's sleeping. How come I'm not?

4:08 AM - Highway 41 on the way home. Elton John's "I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues." I'm no longer worried about staying awake. But dammit, I want to make it without stopping for gas again.

4:14 AM - The first time on my trip that I can see the stars.

4:27 AM - Starting to have waking visions. But Genesis' "That's All" is rocking it out!

4:38 AM - I've heard a remarkable amount of Journey so far - I would be fist pumping if I wasn't so concerned with 10 and 2.

4:40 AM - More Phil Collins... The clock is my enemy. Why do I care what time it is? Almost there.

5:05 AM - Me and my truck sputter into to Neenah, WI.

Ending stats: 998 miles, 17 hours, 7 States, 4 iced coffees, and 1 bed waiting for me at the top of the stairs.

That's how it went, so far. Only 2,000 miles left to go...

The Jazz Mortuary

After a long discussion with one of my other About.com cohorts, Jacob Teichroew, about the recent column (Can Jazz be Saved?) by Terry Teachout and the internet onslaught that followed, I have a few words on the subject of the so-called "Death of Jazz." (insert minor 7th chord please)

My main argument is this - although jazz as an art form is alive and well (ten million strong and growing), commercially speaking, it's not a player. And it hasn't been, really, since the 1950's - early 1950's. And by the time of its commercial decline, it had really only been going strong (ie. been the popular music of the day) for 15 years - tops.

How does this affect current jazz musicians or listeners? It couldn't affect them less. It's not like any of us that are playing or listening to jazz (okay, maybe there's a few of you 80-plus-ers that are crying right now, but lets be honest, you're not reading this because you don't know how to turn on a computer) were alive during the hay-day of jazz. So what did we have that we are now missing?

And again, this says nothing of jazz's vibrance as an art form or as a creative enterprise.

As a jazz musician just don't expect to sell anything. To me, to anyone. Just don't do it. Don't try to get 100 people to your gig. Don't try to make money from your recordings. Just play, and be a badass while doing it. If the plinko ball falls in your slot and you do sell a million records (hello Norah Jones) have fun with it.

But really, there's nothing you can do, nothing you can tell the younger generation, that will "make jazz a popular music again." If that's what you want, I guess my advice is build a time machine and head on back - cause otherwise, sadly, you're fishing in an empty pond.

Is jazz dead? No. But if it is, it's nothing new. It's been dead for a couple of decades now.

(Update: to read Jacob's response, please head over to jazz.about.com)